Dark Bloom
by Ally Futuras
Summary: At that moment, she wanted to know what lived inside him. If they were preyed upon by the same evil thoughts lurking within themselves. She wanted just a glimpse into his mind, to know whether they dreamed of the same chaos that was to come. If it really was a sign of what was yet to happen. Would their world truly end in ruin and disarray?


She rarely gets a full nights' sleep anymore. It isn't uncommon for Kat to be awake long before Dante. Insomnia was a tricky bastard. Yet when she does manage to fall asleep, her mind drifts into the chaos within her. Nightmares. Death and ruin. The sight of a shattered, demon infested world. It's nothing of what she'd ever imagined. What they now bore witness to. Everything was seemingly worse than ever before.

She attempts to think little of her nightmares. Even during the day, curled up with a book in her lap, her mind slips elsewhere.

It was a _feeling _more than anything that followed. A strange feeling. An aura almost, filled with nothing but pure evil. _Anxiousness _of something yet to happen. She blamed it all on her insomnia. Her body is always tired and her mind even more exhausted.

The nightmares, conscious or not, were unpleasant. Unnatural. Yet nonetheless so familiar to her. So right. As though they were _suppose_ to happen. She was rarely given a clear remembrance or image of her nightmares. It seemed almost like looking through a keyhole at times.

But _always_ there was that same lone figure standing...

Dante is gone for most of the day. It isn't out of the ordinary. Taking odd jobs here and there. On few occasions she accompanied him if he needs the extra hand or simply wants to have her company. She doesn't mind and appreciates their time together. It's nice after all.

But somehow that still wasn't enough for him. Not even close. Even after a whole year, he continued to go out during the afternoon, buy a drink or two if needed. It didn't matter how many demons he managed to take down, it never seemed to be enough. The bitterness inside was just too much. The _anguish_.

_Oh, Dante_… releasing his anger in whatever demon dared cross his path, Kat couldn't help but worry. Didn't matter how many times he reassured her, the young witch couldn't shake away the concern. But she made sure to keep her thoughts to herself. The two sharing a smile or nod after a long day or busy morning. The anxiousness always present yet forcefully pushed far back into her mind.

It wouldn't be long until the young woman would see her error in ignoring such sensations.

Dante is quick when he grabs his coat, throwing it on in one swift motion as he stepped toward the door, his voice gruff, "Going out."

He's in one of his moods. Not that it was any sort of surprise. Short sentences. No explanation as to where he would go although the young witch knew exactly what he went off to do. Kat found it best to not question it. He'd only grow more irritated. She'd heard his heavy breathing during the night, no doubt about it. His tossing and turning. Nightmares, something they seemed to have in common yet spoke nothing of it.

Dante often left during the night without telling her anyway. She didn't care. She wasn't his keeper, he was free to do as he pleased no matter how drunk he would return at times. Kat would only ever dismiss him with a wave of her hand or a curt 'Mhmm..' as he left. Yet this time she seemed to surprise even herself.

"Be careful." The words make her flinch as she spoke them, suddenly hugging her book to her chest. She rarely tells him that anymore, if ever. It gave her tongue a sour flavor. But he's already gone by the time the words leave her mouth.

The entirety of the evening Kat feels uneasy. She feels _wrong._ Ever since Dante stepped out the door. An itch she was unable to scratch. She attempted to busy herself, cleaning out her few empty jars or containers and filling them once more. Her eyes ever so often glancing toward the old clock hung up in the kitchen. The young woman began jotting new spells into one of her various journals yet still she couldn't shake off the sensation.

Only once the hunter arrived would she realize why.

Dante practically broke down the door, stumbling over his own feet. It was past midnight, Kat was by his side before he reached the hallway. Her bare feet felt cold against the fresh wooden floorboards. The hunter was drenched in sweat, his breathing ragged and uneven. _Reckless_. Immature and reckless. She could smell the alcohol on him as she helped him walk. No surprise there.

With her arm around his torso, she felt sticky warmth underneath his coat. Glancing down, the young witch noticed dark red staining his shirt. A chill went up her spine, a sensation much like the one she'd been having all afternoon.

"I can't believe it," she whispered, shaking her head.

Ridiculous. Stupid. Still as reckless as ever. The young woman did her best to guide him toward his bedroom, Dante grumbling and making out incoherent words on the way. He dragged his feet all the while Kat struggled to keep him from falling over. They'd gone through this routine countless times before. The only difference this time being Dante's wound.

Kat propped him up against a wall as she went to ready his bed, moving his blanket aside. All the while, the hunter continued to whisper to himself, his eyes droopy and tired. _What an infant_. Drinking and trailing blood. After she cleared a path, the young woman helped him sit, the mattress squeaking under his weight.

At this, Dante groaned, biting his lip from the pain. His breathing now heavy and slow, he let his forehead fall to Kat's shoulder. He let himself relax, his hand coming up to graze her forearm. "You're always so good to me," he looked up to her, straightening up so his face could be near her own.

"You're drunk," she accused. She wanted to look away. Away from his tired, bloodshot eyes filled with nothing but guilt and remorse. _It was torture._ His entire being radiated with misery.

She always took care of him. She was always there for him. _Waiting. _If only she knew just how grateful- No. Who was he kidding, of course she knew. He told himself he was going to stop this. He was going to stop. He was wrong.

Dante swallowed hard. His breath was hot against her cheek.

She was his lifeline. His liberation. Whatever good he had left in him was all because of her. He was a fool. There was nothing he could say to her. Nothing. It was all routine. Any discontent he felt, all his frustration, being dealt with alcohol and irresponsible violence. Who was he kidding?

All he felt was _shame_.

"This isn't you." she continued, her hand coming up to comb her delicate fingers through his hair. The young witch, although having been worried, had grown irritated, cursing under her breath, "_Idiot."_

At that, Dante finally spoke. She might as well know. His voice felt raw and dry, "I just- I thought I saw _him_."

He didn't tell her how relieved he'd felt when he saw the edge of a familiar coat making its way out from the bar he was in. Dante didn't mention how, for just a moment, he'd forgotten all the cruelty, the anger, the rage building within him from a year prior. He felt _relief_, the possibility of his brother being alive. And yet when he went after the individual, Dante was met with a stranger walking down the street. Just another civilian out in the dark night.

The hunter was filled with hate and torment. He didn't care how drunk he'd become, he cared less about the group of demons in his path as he walked back home. _Pain_. Just as simple and complicated as that. The young man felt nothing but pain that night.

Dante told Kat none of these things. And yet he didn't have to.

She is able to remove his coat and tattered shirt as gently as she can without hurting him further. He's quiet all the while she works. She wipes the blood from his abdomen with a damp rag as Dante lay and let himself rest and heal. _She was always so good to him. _Always there for him.

Yet as she cleaned the blood from his body, her mind couldn't help but wander back to the dream she'd had not just a few months prior. A sign?

Dante swears on her life, the young witch warns him about the drinking. _Get drunk again, don't bother coming back._ That's all it takes this time. Because he knows he can't lose her too.

They make sure to never bring up that night's incident again.

Weeks pass between them until Dante finally invites her to go with him on a job. Kat isn't easily convinced. Something in the back of her mind telling her they can't leave. An ill fate will befall their home if they leave it unguarded. But she doesn't want the hunter going alone. At first, she isn't sure they should leave at all. But how would she explain such an emotion to Dante?

To set her mind at ease, the young witch is adamant she set protective spells before they go anywhere. Dante is less than excited with the wait but watches as she puts barriers on each windowsill and at last their door as they make their leave.

If it makes her happy, so be it.

As they walked side by side down the street, the hunter finally asks her about the barriers, his curiosity getting the best of him.

The bag slung over her shoulder rattles with the various tools and ingredients as Kat takes longer steps to keep up with the other man. "I'm being cautious," she answers curtly, a soft smile on her face to reassure him.

They returned home earlier than originally planned, not having completely finished off the work they had set out to do earlier that morning. Of course, their client had not been happy but the weather certainly was not on their side. The steady drizzle of afternoon rain became a heavy downpour which caught up to them as they hurried home as quickly as possible. Kat taking refuge underneath Dante's coat as he rushed ahead to open the door for them both.

When they finally entered their scarcely heated apartment, Dante let out a loud yawn and collapsed into the couch, kicking off his boots and wriggling off his wet shirt. Kat couldn't help but roll her eyes in amusement, tossing his coat over a chair.

"I'm taking a shower," she defeatedly admitted, almost dragging her feet as she walked into the hallway.

"Want company?" Dante's voice lazily rang from the other room which the young woman ignored.

Kat had gone through each room first, making sure every open window was closed and secure. The little voice in her head going off as it always did. The unknown sensation being ever so present as she closed the window in Dante's bedroom he had left open. She only failed to take notice on the now ruined barriers which had been washed away by the rain.

Dante awoke her the next morning, earlier than he normally would be awake himself, "Two day job, Kat. Let's get a move on."

Yet as she readied herself, the same feeling she'd gotten the day before returned to the very core of her chest. Almost as though a chain wrapped around her heart and pulled roughly. Kat ceased from packing her things and Dante appeared at her bedroom door, "Ready to go?"

She doesn't want to alarm him. Kat has no way of explaining what she feels but she is positive that a negative force will appear at their home and she doesn't plan on letting it. She gives in. She tells Dante she simply has a bad feeling. A sensation that something is coming and she needs to prepare for it. In lamest terms, she mutters, "It's a witch thing."

It takes little to convince the hunter but he is still unsure with the decision of Kat staying home. She can take care of herself well, _that _he's witnessed himself. The witch was a fighter and her knowledge only grew more each day, her spells becoming stronger. With a reassuring hand on his arm, he trusts in Kat's ability to stay safe while he is away.

"I'll stay here. Hold down the fort," she assures him, gently guiding him out the door.

Dante hesitates, stopping to turn in her direction, eyebrows knit together, "You sure?"

"Positive," the corners of her mouth tug upward, "It'll be alright, Dante."

When Dante returns a few hours later, it's to the sight of Kat surrounded by Stygian's and just barely defending herself. He can't help it, but he becomes angry. Beyond angry. His body filled with outrage and… _fear_. The duo are able to dispatch them quickly soon after his arrival.

"You stick with me from now on," Dante spoke dangerously, wiping the sweat from his brow and rising to his full height once finished, "If I hadn't gotten here when I did-"

"But I held my own," the witch insisted. She went to his side, maintaining that she had been doing just fine, "At least until you returned. They would have ambushed us if we'd both left, I know it. I _felt _it."

It had been fortunate that she had remained at home. Even if most of their home had become even more damaged than it had been before. Kat heard them coming, they weren't very secretive to begin with but she had little time to prepare before the demons had made their way inside.

"That still doesn't make it safe," Dante pressed, biting his lip and thinking over his options before turning to the witch again. He was foolish. He'd been naive. _Idiot_.

Dante seemed to make up his mind, his eyes now stern and focused, he brought up his hand pointedly, "From now on, we stick together. And… make sure to tell me when you get one of those bad feelings again."

She nodded curtly, "Okay."

Within the next few months, everything went reasonably smooth. Dante and Kat both pulling in more money than they had been doing previously. No odd or foreboding sensation making itself known. It may have possibly been the most fruitful time they had together. The best of the best.

The hunter grew stronger and faster just as Kat did as well, acquiring more books as her own knowledge and ability surpassed itself. She broke through her own limits at times, a confident grin plastered on her face whenever she accomplished a new protection rune or sigil.

The two began having more time for themselves. Dante at times bringing small gifts back for the witch when he goes out on his own for only a few hours. A ribbon for her growing hair, matches to light her candles or a silly postcard he stumbled upon that made him laugh. He even returns with handfuls or pockets filled of herbs he's come to learn that Kat uses, the grateful smile on her lips always being worth the trouble.

She's able to enchant a decently sized knife Dante presented her with one afternoon. It was simple enough that she grew fond of it. The length of the blade itself not too large and the weight was no burden. It was easily concealable in its sheath and no problem to carry. He claimed to have found it while browsing the many empty apartments within the building.

"It's just about your size," he admitted with a lopsided grin, flipping the blade in his grasp.

Kat was beyond thankful for the gift. It served well whenever she found need of it for menial tasks when preparing new spells or splicing up ingredients. But she knew the real reason behind it was to keep his own mind at ease, that she have a more proper way of defending herself. Even if this more 'proper way' was only as long as her own spray cans. In Dante's opinion, it was a child's toy.

A few days later, the hunter arrived with a machete. That was when Kat began to question his daily afternoon walks. He called it a Kukri Machete, a large smile as he placed it before her during dinner, explaining how useful it could be and how fortunate they were to have found one.

"It's light!" Dante declared as he unsheathed and examined the blade, ignoring their dinner of takeout, "It's sharp and easy to handle, shines like a charm..."

"Dante," she shook her head, "I don't need any weapons."

"...and it's more your thing since you don't like guns anyway-"

"Dante!" Only then did her turn to look at her. Kat sighed, finally having gained the hunters attention. She forced a smile, crossing her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair, her tone now more gentle, "I really don't think it's necessary."

A pause.

"Not necessary?" he questioned, finally setting the blade aside and sitting down in his own chair, "Maybe so. But it would make me feel better."

He shrugged, picking up a fork to stab into his food after clearly being hurt by her words. Kat slowly went back to her own meal. Sure, perhaps she was right. Yet still, the hunter couldn't help but firmly disagree with the witch. He became stubborn when it came down to her well being. She had to be able to protect herself on days he isn't around.

Kat tilted her head down, biting her lip before giving in, "It would make you feel better?"

The hunter nodded solemnly, his gaze coming up to meet hers, "It would."

She rolled her eyes, "Alright."

Dante couldn't help but smile like an idiot for the rest of the night.

The hunter was adamant that Kat be able to protect herself, especially after their incident with the Stygian. He knew very well of her discomfort when it came to guns. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit prideful whenever he caught a glance of the young woman using the knife he first had gotten especially for her.

A smirk would grace his lips. _Lovely. _

It didn't take long until he was able to drag her outdoors for practice. Lucky for them, it would take more than a simple knife or machete to seriously hurt Dante. Unlucky for them, that fact alone still didn't seem to ease the young witch's worry. At least not until the hunter began to push her buttons.

She was less than graceful at first. He didn't blame her. The witch was the brains of their organization not the brawn. She was all for books and for barriers to _prevent _attacks. He steered her stance and guided her in how to best hold her weapon. She picked up quickly. For a brief moment, Dante almost dropped it all in favor of taking her to the pier for a real-life threatening target practice.

Until she proved herself with him as a sparring partner.

Dante may have been left with a few cuts and scratches on his arms for each day they practiced but the pride rising in his chest spoke volumes. The lessons made up for each injury. He had to bite his lip to keep the smile from spreading across his face. Several of those wounds had been made purposely at first. Dante giving her chances to strike him. Even scaring her the first time, pretending as though he was in large amounts of pain. Kat didn't find it the least bit amusing.

But each lesson in the end was worth it. With each passing day, she learned new ways to defend herself as Dante taught her. He explained how it was vital she know these things.

"You need to know what it's like to wound a body," he'd told her beforehand.

But sooner than later, she had caught on. _A fast learner. _Dante quietly wondered if she'd been the same with his brother...

By nightfall they went back to their own hobbies. Dante sharpening her blades on their old coffee table while Kat herself returned to her books. The steady wind outdoors along with the drizzle of rain keeping them from retiring to bed no matter how late it had become. The young witch was silently grateful for the excuse to stay awake.

She hadn't had any nightmares as of late but each night still seemed like a gamble. A threat. She was always on edge, never knowing when or if they would return at all. Or maybe what scared her most was... What if they weren't just nightmares? What if it was something more than just a bad feeling?

Kat pushed through the thought, rubbing her eyes and began reading the same sentence in her book for the fifth time. She had to keep her mind occupied with more productive things. Although it didn't escape Dante so easily as she might have previously thought. It was nearly impossible to keep anything a secret from Dante most times.

The young man kept his eyes on her, beyond positive of the issues picking inside her head. She looked exhausted. Drained. Weakened and ready to collapse at any moment. Weeks have passed, perhaps even months that she's seemed off. They both knew it. Kat was worn out. Sleepless nights had much to do with it. If she looked that way the hunter could only imagine he must have looked similar if not worse.

He let out a breath, his eyes never leaving the knife he continued to sharpen, "You haven't been sleeping lately."

Slightly taken aback, the young witch brought down her book slowly near her chest. She tried to keep her voice strong and sure but failed terribly, "How would you know?"

"Because I haven't been sleeping lately," he said sternly, glancing over at her, his own eyelids fighting to stay open. She just seemed so lost. So innocently exhausted.

"Oh…"

"Nightmares?"

Yes. Oh, heavens yes. More than just nightmares. But she didn't want him to be worried.

"Something like that."

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, sighing while keeping his hands busy with the knife and whetstone, "That makes two of us."

She wanted to know if he'd dreamt of Vergil as well.

At that moment, she wanted to know what lived inside him. If they were preyed upon by the same evil thoughts lurking within themselves. She wanted just a glimpse into his mind, to know whether they dreamed of the same chaos that was to come. If it really was a sign of what was yet to happen. Would their world truly end in ruin and disarray? In some way, Kat wanted to know the answers to all the questions inside her own mind.

If only he could provide them.

And so she goes out on a limb. "Are they about Vergil?" Her voice feels _raw_. It feels _weak_. She hates feeling so weak. So vulnerable. But for _him_, it was okay. Because somehow she knew he understood because he felt exactly the same. Their hidden fears and vulnerability only ever being projected for each other and no one else. They _had _no one else.

Except he stays quiet. Frozen. Caught off guard. Slowly, he set her knife down, the whetstone right beside it, swallowed hard and bit his lip. He was thinking. Holding back his tongue in fear of saying something before he meant to.

His mouth is dry, his eyebrows knit together. "Sometimes." he croaks out, "He- he's hurt. Lost."

There was anger there, of course there was. Rage and disappointment. But behind all of those emotions, Dante felt a wanting. _He was family after all_. Did he regret his past actions? At times. _Yes_. Dante fought with himself countless hours late at night. Could they have helped him? Spoken to him? Come to an agreement?

Maybe not. Who was he kidding?

But now he had to live with not knowing where his brother was. If he was alive and well- or doomed, suffering and simply trying to get by just like the rest of them.

Her voice brings him out of his thoughts, sweet and gentle with a sigh, "He's killing you, Dante."

She was right. She was always right. It was distracting. Killing him without laying a hand on his body. Each time he was too slow, too in his own head while in the middle of a fight, all because his thoughts always went to his brother. Dante got hurt whether he wanted to or not.

But not all his dreams lured him into the darkness of how his brother must be suffering. Sometimes he could only hope to be given a proper night's rest. To dream of absolutely nothing. It seemed his mind had other plans, terrorizing him when he was most vulnerable. Yet not only with Vergil. Not always.

"Lately…" he whispers, afraid to speak, "I see you."

Dante finally turns to look in her direction. His eyes filled with confusion, almost _begging _her for help. For answers. She was always right about things after all. But how could they help one another if they couldn't even help themselves.

Kat has no possible answer to give and neither does he.

He seems bothered by his own words. Frightened. As if he admitted a secret too large for either of them. But now she knows she isn't the only one suffering from nightmares.

Before she's able to mutter any kind words of comfort, Dante's breath hitches and he quickly stands up. "I'm sorry," his voice is hoarse as he swallows hard. Almost knocking over the coffee table in the process, the young man strides to his bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving the witch to her own thoughts.

She sighs, running a hand through her knotted hair and tossed her book aside. He didn't have to go through such pain, such agony all on his own. Neither of them did.

The next day, as he prepares to go out for his 'evening walk', Dante is surprised. Kat has thrown on her thicker coat and stood at the door, waiting for him. The hunter easily noticed the weapon strapped tightly to her side and bit his lip to suppress a grin.

"Hot date with a demon tonight, kitten?" he teased with a raise of his eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. She had rarely used either weapon he'd acquired for her apart from the smaller blade being used only for small tasks. Dante did his best to seem humorous after their less than delightful night prior.

If she took notice in his attempt to be more lighthearted, she made no comment on the matter. Kat simply smiled, her hands in front of her, tugging the edge of her coat before she made sure her weapons were secured tightly on her thigh.

"Yes," she joked back, the corners of her lips curling upward as she zipped her coat up further, "With you if that's alright."

That took Dante by surprise. He would have made a ridiculous remark but was too dazed over her proposal in offering him company. Willingly offering her company. She never bothered tagging along with him before, always opting to stay home while he blew off steam or killed time. It was Dante who normally asked for her company, too afraid to leave her alone anymore.

"You want to… go with me?" _Killing random demons?_

"Of course," she smiled sincerely, her hands quickly going behind her back, "I like to spend time with you."

That seemed new to him. Comforting in a strange way but new nonetheless. It brought a warmth within him. A pleasant sensation planting itself inside his stomach. Dante rather liked it.

"Well…" he shrugged and grinned sloppily, holding back a chuckle, "Alright then."

In truth, coming across demons seemed an even easier feat now than it had been months prior. Dante already knew which areas were known to contain more demons and the certain kinds it held. It may have been done intentionally or perhaps unintentionally, he couldn't say for sure, but Dante guided their afternoon walk near those parts of the city.

He wasn't worried for their own well-being as he would have been months before. He wanted to get a rush out of it. He wanted to feel _something._ Kat would be fine, she would be safe with him, that was enough to set his mind at ease. She needed real fighting experience anyway. The hunter could thank his lessons and Kat's fast learning for her capable fighting skills. Dante became prideful that Kat was able to defend herself so efficiently now.

They'd reconciled over the previous nights' occurrence, even though neither of them knew for what reason exactly. Dante was thankful, although he may not have shown in detail. Pleased to an extent.

Although he was getting his high off of fighting demons with his friend at his side, Dante enjoyed the calmer moments as well. The moments after their dance with possible death. _Her possible death, not mine._ The warm, welcomed conversations they could have as they went on with their stroll.

After his third attempt of being comical, Dante secretly decided he enjoyed the witch's soft laugh. It reminded him of a time long forgotten, the innocence of _youth_. His jokes were awful, even he knew it. But she laughed just the same as they ambled down any street they came across. The way her eyes crinkled and her cheeks rose, becoming faintly washed over with pink.

It made Dante realize he had never _really _seen her smile that way before. Kat had never truly laughed or smiled prior, her emotions always in check, always so somber. He relished in the fact that he was the one who'd acquired such a beautiful reaction from her and more so that he was on the receiving end of her loving smile and genuine laugh.

Dante felt like a young boy, for the first time in years, giggling like a fool with his best friend over nothing in particular. He never wanted their night to end. And still, unknown to him at the time, it would be a cherished memory to him nonetheless.

He only failed to take notice _she _was equally guilty of making a toothy grin spread across his own lips that night.

Maybe it wasn't too bad, just the two of them. It was reassuring at the least, a soothing reminder they were not completely alone with their tormented minds.


End file.
